Everyday People: Team Santa
by Cameo Moon
Summary: Not all mutants are heroes, not all mutations are extraordinary. Follow the story of several mutants who will guarantee that you will never look at a mall Santa or their employees the same way again.


Obligatory Disclaimer: X men and all related concepts do not belong to me. (wow, really? Who would have imagined??) Mutants are not my creation, but I do like playing with the concept by taking people with extraordinary (or not so extraordinary) abilities and putting them into everyday situations. Because not every mutant is a hero, nor do they want to be. I've been writing a series of one shots about everyday mutants, and finally decided to expand on one to write a Christmas story- which is extremely ironic, since I myself happen to be Jewish. This will probably only be a couple of chapters long, but I decided to follow this Santa Set and their 'special' employees. It's all very lounge in cheek and not meant to be taken seriously at all. To everyone who's reviewed Everyday People, thank you so much! It means more to me than you ever know. :)

* * *

"Look who's here! Ben and I were just talking about you." Gil was busy unlocking the register and starting up the computer system as I walked in at just before ten in the morning.

'Santa' was leaning on the short, colorfully painted screen that divided the camera and register from the visitor area wearing an expression that proclaimed 'I know something you don't know!'

To see such an expression on Jolly Ol' Saint Nick was slightly disconcerting. I found myself disconcerted quite often around here.

"I didn't do it, I swear." I ducked behind him in the somewhat cramped space, and put my purse away in the cabinet under the register. Odds are I probably _had_ done whatever they were talking about... I swear, I hadn't been _that_ snarky to our manager.

"See, that's what I'm talking about right there." Gil had finished with the opening setup and was clearly up for some mocking at mocking at my expense.

"What is it?" I snapped back upright, but couldn't keep the grin from tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"You need a better poker face." Says the one telepath on our little Santa team.

"That's not fair." And it isn't! I could have the best poker face on this side of a Texas Hold'em convention, and it still wouldn't keep Gil from dipping into my mind whenever he felt like snooping. Granted he was the most open individual I had ever met- everyone who had ever worked for the Westchester Mall Santa Set knew every last detail of his life. He says it's only fair since he could know everything about us if he wanted to. I say he just likes to talk a lot.

"Life isn't fair. But you still need one." He seemed unmoved by my pouting.

"Come on, I'm not that bad."

"With the customers, no. With Ellen, you need to wait until her back is turned to make those kinds of faces. Yes, I know she deserves it, yes I know she's clueless. Give her a break, she's new to all this." Gil, the sage voice of Santa Village wisdom has worked here every year for seven years.

Ellen was the set manager. If anyone on our team should have been a telepath, it should have been her. But she wasn't. To make matters worse, she was the only non mutant Ben and his wife had hired this year. Talk about life not being fair.

"I'm new too, why don't you give me a break?"

"You don't need one." He replied, scowling and yawning at the same time. "I need coffee. We're opening to the public as soon as I get back."

"Get me some!" I shouted as he untied the red velvet rope to the enterance and tied it closed behind him. He had heard me, but chose to ignore me. Evil I tell you. The man is evil.

"You're a good kid Red." Ben, or rather Santa as we had to call him on the job, came up behind me and patted me on the shoulder.

It was my third day on the job as photographer/tech girl at the Santa Village at Westchester Mall. Ben had taken to calling me 'Red' after I nearly set the canvas box around the light we used as a flash on fire. How was I supposed to know that sending one small pulse of energy to the camera refused to auto focus would result in a smoking flash?

'Red' had to be one of the most ironic nicknames I had ever earned myself.

Did I mention that my hair was green? As in jungle green. It's a nice shade... for a car, for a sweater, for a plant...

I am none of these things. And if Ben's wife hadn't declared it 'festive' at my interview, you had better believe it would currently be covered by some nice mundane shade of brown hair dye.

Here's the thing- Ben doesn't need this job. In a way, this place is a little like a charity case. Finding a job when you're a mutant can be somewhat tricky at times, even during the holidays when there are 'help wanted' signs in the windows of every store, shop and restaurant.

But just like everyone else, we _need_ those jobs. Especially during this time of the year.

When the company who originally ran Santa Village at the chain of malls the Westchester belonged decided to make a ban on hiring mutants, Ben did the one thing he'd been wanting to do for years. He left the company to run his own independent Santa Set at the Westchester Mall.

He didn't have to do what he did. The company had no idea he was a mutant, and they probably still don't. Even if they had known, he was partial owner of the mall. With that much money at his fingertips, I'm sure they would have managed to look the other way.

It was great news for us, and horrible news for the company- he was the best Santa they had.

To say that Ben thought outside the box would have been a massive understatement. While other companies had made the decision to ban hiring mutants long before this, Ben had wondered why they would do such a thing. After all, people with unusual 'gifts' could be used to an advantage. Why on earth would anyone in their right mind turn down such a person?

Popular opinion on mutants aside, he really did care less about what anyone thought of him in that respect.

So you see, Ben was more like Santa than he ever realized. No one who ever applied to work in this particular Santa village was turned down because they happened to have unique DNA. If your 'personal miracles' (as he liked to call them) happened to help the set run more smoothly, then so much the better.

But you did need a bit of luck finding the ad in the first place. He liked to place small obscure ads online. _If_ you happened to notice them, you had to reply with a free response. No resume or previous experience required, but it stated in no uncertain terms that one had to be very open minded to all kinds in order to be employed by this particular Santa Set.

In all honesty, I didn't expect a response to my letter. But sure enough, three days later I found myself in the food court of the Westchester mall being interviewed by a very kind older couple who could have passed for Mr. And Mrs. Clause themselves.

When I agreed to take the job (all right... more like thanked them profusely for taking me despite my unique appearance... among other things) I really had no idea just what I was signing on for.

Back in the present, Gil had found his way beck to the set with two cups of coffee steaming into the slightly chilly morning air of the mall.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" I skipped over and untied the rope for him, looking forward to the hot caffinated goodness that awaited me. I knew he wasn't evil after all!

"This isn't for you, this is for Santa." He bypassed me and placed the extra cup of coffee on the hidden shelf behind Santa's throne. Smirking at me, he took a slow sip of his coffee.

'_You. ARE.Evil.'_ I thought in his general direction. His snort let me know he had gotten the message. We all abused his telepathy in that manner. Hey, someone might as well hear those little comments you can never say out loud.

"I _AM_." He widened his eyes and made a failed attempt to look scary. He tried, he really did. "Okay, first customer. This'll be an easy one, you can take care of it."

Walking up the normally crowded pathway to the set, was a blond woman carrying an equally blond little girl in her arms who looked to be around two years old.

_'Two and a half actually. Surprise, surprise, her name is Tyler. She's excited to see Santa, and she wants a Dora the Explorer doll for Christmas. Mommy wants a divorce since daddy refused to get up so they could make this a family outing. Mommy is also knows the reason daddy is so tired is because he stayed out half the night with his secretary.'_ As usual, Gil has done his snooping, and doled out too much information to all the employees present.

At the moment, it's just Gil, Santa and I, since it usually starts out pretty slow on Saturday mornings.

I raised an eyebrow at him for that extra... tidbit, but he simply shrugged before heading back to the cash register. Repressing a sigh, I put on my cheery smile and untied the rope.

She walked right past me into the set- not rude per say, but her eye was on Santa, and I, the lowly photographer didn't matter at the moment. Not that it phased me, it saved me from chirping out a canned greeting.

It happened all the time. In about five minutes their attention would be focused all too keenly on me when it came time to snap those photos. Which was when I would tune in to pay attention to what was going on in that part of the set.

I set to zooming the camera in and focusing it (having learned yesterday that auto focus was _not_ an option) so the camera would be ready to go when they were finished visiting. Fine tuning the focus, I made sure to listen for and signs of whimpering that might lead to a crier. Sure, the little girl seemed fine now, but you never knew what might happen. Sometimes a kid would be all right while standing with mommy. But as soon as they were placed on Santa's lap, on came the waterworks and piercing screams.

That was if Gil wasn't there to catch them in time. Which did happen on occasion.

_'Stop worrying about it, the kid is fine.' _

So he thinks...

Gil gave me a whithering glare. That thought hadn't been for him, but he seemed to have picked up on it anyway. Oops.

Santa cleared his throat and I literally bounced to attention. "Red, you ready?"

"Sure thing." Nothing like being caught off guard in a telepathic bickering match to make one instantly perky. After the mother had set the little girl just so on Santa's lap and came to stand behind me. "On three- One, two three! Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!" And snap- Santa and child are grinning like loons.

"And one more time! One, two, three...!"

"CHEESE!"It's as though the two if them are attempting to see who can scream the word louder.

Either way, it doesn't matter. The pictures are adorable.

"Those are so great. Can I have package number four please?" Mummy has finally decided that I am worth acknowledging since I'm the one who takes and prints the ever coveted Santa pictures.

"Sure thing, just go to the other side of the counter, straight through the way you came and I'll be right with you." It's time to get down to business. The lines won't be crazy for another couple of hours, but we will be getting a steady stream of people coming through even now.

The computer was already processing the printing job at a slower rate than it had been the day before, which according to Gil, is normal. The closer to Christmas it gets, the worse the computer and camera system run. Praying that it wouldn't be up to me to fix the system right now, I grabbed the pictures from the printer and went over to the register to present them.

Another family had come in in the meantime, and I wordlessly handed them off to Gil. After all, he was perfectly capable of using any of his multiple talents to ensure that he'd get a perfect picture.

"Here we go! Your daughter is just beautiful, I hope you like these!"

"Tank you." She smiled, admiring the pictures. "You know, this mall really does have the best Santa experience in town." The blond woman bounced her two and a half year old daughter on her hip as she made a somewhat awkward maneuver to pull her credit card out of her wallet with one hand.

"Thank _you_ Mrs. Kodaly." Glancing at the name on her credit card, I smiled my cheery smile reserved just for grateful customers as I rang up her photo package and put the prints in matching red and green envelopes.

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaay! There's something wrong with the camera again!" Gilbert, aka Gil called from his current position behind the camera.

"I'm with a customer, Gil." I said, bright smile never faltering as I bagged the now packaged photos and put a few stickers in the bag for the well behaved little girl.

Mrs.Kolday laughed, picking up her bag then taking her daughter's hand so she 'waved' goodbye as they turned and left.

Gil grabbed my shoulders and marched me over to the camera, the bells on his colorful elf hat jingling all the way. "Fix it."

"You know, you're going to have to call the company about this at some point." I crossed my arms, and acted for a split second as though I wasn't going to cooperate.

"Your way is faster."

"My way isn't a permanent solution."

"Come on, before we get busy again. The last thing I need is to deal with a slow computer to camera connection AND controlling a bratty kid at the same time." His tone was no nonsense, but it really was rather difficult to take a grown man in an elf costume seriously.

"Fine. But if I fix this, you take register until lunch." He normally ran the register anyway, but I had to at least make it look as though I were putting up a fight.

"Honey, you are fabulous." He jangled his way over to the register.

"I know." I flashed him a grin before turning my attention to the computer system in front of me. I am the tech girl/main photographer at our little Santa set.

To be honest, I don't really know how I do what I do. It has something to do with electromagnetic pulses, and scrambling the computer processors into thinking everything is running correctly after things start to go wrong. Long story short: I think at the malfunctioning piece of technology, and it starts working again.

Or I fry it beyond repair and cause half the block to loose power.

It's a fragile balance.

Looking at the screen, sure enough it's not even done processing the pictures from the family that had come in after Mrs. Kolday. Luckily enough we haven't had any other customers come in, but the lull won't last long.

The happy family of four is waiting not quite patiently on the other side of the counter, and it would be up to Gil to vamp until I could straighten up the system and convince it that it wanted to process these pictures, print them, and do so in a timely fashion.

Placing my hands on the keyboard, I concentrate and send the slightest of pulses through the computer system. Like I had said before, it wasn't a permanent solution, but it would keep things running smoothly for a few hours at least. I could actually _fix_ the problem, but that would mean I'd have to know the ins and outs of how these programs actually operate. Which I don't. For a girl with my abilities, I am shockingly clueless about technology.

As long as what I do works, that's what matters, right?

The order had been placed on the desk, and I set to printing out the photos. It seemed as though the system was working properly.

"You are a miracle worker!" Gil grabbed the pictures as soon as the printer had spit them out, and handed them over. He gave a wave as they walked away bickering amongst themselves. "What total brats." He spoke sotto voice, still smiling brightly.

"They're toddlers, what do you expect?" I looked at the pictures of the two child family that were still displayed on the computer screen- one boy that looked about four years old, and a little girl who seemed about two. Their behavior was seemingly as perfect as their smiles- at least for the two and a half seconds it had taken to snap the photo.

"I meant the parents." He deadpanned.

"So what, work your 'magic' on them the same way you do the kids." You see, I wasn't the only 'miracle worker' on the Santa set. Gil, as it turned out, was a telepath. And a not to shabby one at that. If a child looked like they were going to give Santa a hard time, in stepped Gil.

No crying babies in Santa's lap here, no sir!

Every picture was a winner, sure to be Christmas card and frame worthy.

We were, by far, the most popularly successful Santa station in the city.

"Nah, they're not worth the effort." He shrugged, going over to check on Santa, who had taken to entertaining himself by causing the tips of his gloves to light up in various different colors. I wasn't sure _what_ his ability was, but I figured I'd find out sooner or later.

X-men, eat your heart out.

We were Team Santa.

And we have our own brand of Christmas magic here, and it's all thanks one little chromosome known as the X gene.


End file.
